I have this thing about stock photography.

Lots of it is, of course, right on. Need a horizontal shot of a generically attractive model lounging by a pool? A generically hot dude on skis? A roasted turkey pooping out stuffing? These are useful images that many designers need on a daily basis.

Other stuff? Well, you just have to wonder what the photogs were thinking. “These shots of fat people playing tiddlywinks are going to make me rich, I tell you! RICH!” This is the kind of stuff psychology classes should focus on, because such people are criz-zazy and delusional and roam the streets unfettered.

Given my work, I don’t have much reason to use stock video, but if I did, I’m happy to see that I would be just as amused/perplexed/terrified.

[via Jonno]

I don’t remember where I got this — somewhere on Twitter, maybe Choire (actually, definitely Choire) — but I love it. Even though I never really loved Lucy.

“I’d love to do it, Andy, I really would, but you must understand that for all those people out there I’m still Ethel Mertz, Lucy’s next-door neighbor and the nicest woman in America, and that’s why I can still go into any dinner theater in the country and get paid $20,000 a week, because all my nice fans in their mink stoles want to see Ethel Mertz be nice. I hate being nice and I hate my fans and I hate their mink stoles. But I love making $20,000 a week anytime I want.”

— actress Vivian Vance to Andy Warhol and Bob Colacello over dinner at La Caravelle in New York in 1976, on why she couldn’t star in Warhol’s movie Bad. (Warhol Stars via World of Wonder)

I know. Could you imagine?

Just to be clear: yes, I write, and yes, I get paid to do so, but no, I don’t consider myself a journalist. Journalists are obsessive and fact-checky and inquisitive and smart. I look at Wikipedia a couple of times and, if the coffee’s strong enough, I’ll Google something.

I have the luxury of being so breezy because I write mostly about fluffy stuff, while the others on staff prefer picking apart the minutiae of breaking news. (I might enjoy that, too, if I had more time, but what ‘cha gonna do?)

As examples of said fluffy stuff, behold two video clips I endured yesterday — each featuring Tila Tequila, her new Lambo Gallardo, and pumps to match. She allegedly bought both with the advance from her upcoming porn film. I had no idea that Vivid was coughing up that kind of dough these days. Clearly, I was born with the wrong skill set. And reproductive organs.

Best nipple ever:

Because of an editing error, an earlier version of this story incorrectly reported that Steven Slater said he had always wanted to chew out rude passengers.

[NYTimes]

How, exactly, do you incorrectly report that? And how is that the fault of an “editing error”?

One more from Jon: Cary Grant in a very Photoshopped image (note the chiffon-y right sweater sleeve) from Suzy by Moonlight:

[Morphodite]

Courtesy of my friend, Jon [NSWF link]:

How do you cram “Yowza!” and the sound of fireworks into one measly interjection? Please let me know.

There’s more where that came from on Jon’s Tumblog, Morphodite [I repeat: NSFW]

Can you make that out?

It’s a hive of bees. In a palm tree, right outside my office.

Bees are weird.

Massive loads. Har.

[via John, Marty]

For some reason, we were quoting lines from this (mostly funny) skit all last week. And we were not apologizing for it.

http://www.hulu.com/embed/0IsO39lNhTIW0YlV7gZBLA/i74

Entire transcript here.

To learn more about trannies, hot trannies, messes, and Transylvania, buy my friend Julian’s book.